


This Secret Of Ours

by CryDontSmile



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Angst, Brotp, Fem!Allen, Female Allen, Genderbending, Other, Platonic shipping, Slow Build, Timeline changes, Trans Male Character, perhaps, platonic, possibly, trans male allen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:52:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CryDontSmile/pseuds/CryDontSmile
Summary: A few people knew. But only a few. Well, until that day. If he- Tyki Mikk, the Noah of Pleasure- hadn't had been such a stalker, then maybe it would still be a secret. Now, with secrets building one on top of the other, lies and deceit shrouding all she knew, Allen knew that it was going to take a lot to keep the others from knowing. Platonic Tyki/Allen/Road, Trans!Male!Allen (?)





	1. Secrets and Lies

**Now, this one's a short chapter, but that's because it's old. Newly posted, but I wrote it a long time ago, got it? Rightio. Enjoy.**

**Warnings:** None 

* * *

  **...**

**A secret better kept hidden**

**Tucked away from the light of day**

**Tell someone? Surely forbidden**

**And so a secret it must stay**

...

**A lie told until the days have ended**

**And there's a heart without a beat**

**Because that trust would never be mended**

**If they saw the bitter in the sweet**

**...**

* * *

**~XoX~**

Allen stood her ground with a fierce determination, her silver-blue eyes locked onto those of the man before her, glaring cold daggers into the gold irises that glowed with glee and amusement. He was dressed impeccably –a pristine black suit and white shirt, top hat, curly hair pinned back to keep the dark locks from falling over his face. A cigarette hung loosely from between his lips, and Allen had to scowl at that; it was honestly disgusting that he could smoke that thing. If they tasted as bad as they smelled… Ugh, it was filthy. And it reminded her of her damned alcoholic of a Master, who left that scent everywhere.

 Allen lifted her chin just slightly, arm activated by her side as she let her eyes wander for less than a second, taking in the dark, cobbled alleyway that surrounded them, bathing them both in shadows. This stupid town and all of its alleyways… _It couldn’t have happened to anyone else, could it?_

Allen’s lip twitched in annoyance as the Noah smirked haughtily, voice lined with pleasure. “How are you, girl? It’s been a long time, wouldn’t you agree?”

“The more time I don’t see you or any of your _vile_ family members, the better,” she snapped back, not in the mood–was there ever a mood for it?–to put up with his games. Her silver eyes snapped to the barely visible black crosses lining his brow, counting the seven of them in turn, an upsurge of repugnance filling her as she labelled off the number of each cross, from one to seven. She’d found herself doing that before; she’d count all of the Noah's stigmata, and in turn, she became more and more furious with them, for what they had done, for the abominations they were.

Tyki faked a look of hurt, but his ever-present smirk and predatory eyes gave away the charade before it had even begun. “Ouch, girl,” he scoffed, smirk only stretching wider on his horrid face. “I’m offended. And how would poor Road feel?”

Allen nearly laughed, and instead let a little, bitter giggle slip from between her thin lips, thinking of when she’d met the spiky-haired, irritating little girl in the Rewinding Town. She replied, voice snarky. “What, you mean Road as the one who gouged my eye with a candle? Convincing, Mikk.” Allen felt every muscle in her body ready itself for battle as the Noah simply shifted his weight, her left arm rising slightly to cover her exposed body and protect her from any attack that could happen.

“Edgy, aren’t we?” Tyki teased, Allen infuriated by that trademark smirk that never seemed to leave his lips, watching as he took a drag from the cigarette between his lips before tossing it to the ground, taking a step closer to the fuming Exorcist and crushing the butt underfoot. “Are you frightened, girl? You look frightened.”

Allen let a short burst of nasty laughter leave her lips, never breaking her gaze away from the Noah’s. “You wish.” Her silver eyes flashed with fortitude. They had told her this would be a ‘simple mission’; never did she expect a visit from the Noah she had ascertained that she hated most. She didn’t back down from his challenge, even as he stepped even closer, a small black butterfly emerging from the palm of his hand and fluttering its patterned wings, resting on his fingertips as he held up his hand.

“No, I wish you’d give up on hiding that damn secret, girl. You hurt me, you know?” His grin was truly the most infuriating thing she’d ever seen.

Allen scowled– _of course, he'd bring_ that _up._

* * *

  **~XoX~**

_Allen wasn’t sure whether it was horror or fury that pierced her core at hearing that voice._

_“Well, well. Don’t you look nice?”_

That bastard, _she hissed inwardly, what felt like warmth–a blush, she supposed–spreading across her cheeks in mortification and anger. She kept her head ducked and stayed turned away as she slipped her shirt back on and buttoned it faster than she probably ever had before, not caring if any of them were mismatched as she whirled around to face the voice that had spoken._

Innocence, activate!

 _She swung her clawed left hand at him furiously, and it was to be expected that the Noah jumped back with a quantity of grace Allen envied and coveted, lips peeling away from her teeth in a vehement snarl as she stared at the Noah–who was dressed flawlessly, as usual, but without the top hat–with silver orbs that had been iced over with a bitter frost at knowing that now he_ knew. 

 _“Get_ out _,” she growled out through her tightly gritted teeth, jaw clenched so hard it was beginning to ache. “Or I will kill you.” Her left arm glowed in warning, but the Noah only chuckled at her._

 _“I just complimented you,_ girl. _Show a little respect.” He huffed as though extremely offended by her behaviour, and Allen only glared knives at him in return._

 _“A compliment?” she snapped back, seething, her right hand clenching and unclenching in antagonism. “A_ compliment _?! You snuck into my room and literally just stood there and watched me change, you sick_ pervert _!” Of course, he hadn’t seen everything, he’d piped up before that. She’d only removed her shirt, and still had her chest binding on, but even without the chest binding the smooth expanse of her back and the curve of her hips was enough to give her away._

 _Tyki completely skimmed over her comment, continuing to speak in a lazy manner as though they were just continuing a conversation rather than her fuming in anger and threatening him. “You’re very clever,_ girl _," he drawled insolently, driving Allen to the edge of seeing red at overemphasising the use of_ girl _every time he said it. “To think, you’ve kept such a_ huge _secret hidden… It’d be a shame…”_

_Allen could already see where this was going. She growled and began to stalk towards him, arm reverting back to its normal form, knowing the perverted bastard couldn’t pass through her Innocence like he did everything else. He’d never really told her, but it wasn’t that hard to put the pieces together when he dodged every weapon of Innocence that came his way, but would never duck out of the way of a fist or foot, and instead he would just let it pass straight through him. It was very unnerving to see something supposedly solid pass through flesh and bone like it was a mere phantom._

_“…if someone…”_

_Allen only got closer, only a few feet away from the bastard now, who seemed to be caught in his musing or unaware of her threat. Well, she would give him something he didn’t expect._

_“…ratted you out…”_

**THUD.**

_Allen's left hand met Tyki's grey cheek in a hard slap, hard enough to snap his head to the side and leave an angry mark on his cheek. He turned his head back to gaze at her with dumbfounded eyes, blinking sluggishly as he raised his gloved fingers to his cheek, pressing them over the mark._

_All at once his eyes lit up with realisation and wrath, his golden irises burning brighter and blazing with amber flames as he glowered down at her. “Who the hell do you think you are, girl?”_

_His voice was so dark and lined with such a deadly dose of poison that Allen had to physically fight away the urge to shrink back. His hand shot out, and she found herself lifted off the ground by her collar, his fingers curled into a fist around the white material and holding her at arm's length away._

_Allen still didn’t back down despite the obvious threat, glaring at him with as much courage as she could muster up, mentally calling to her Innocence to activate. She spoke her words in a low, soft tone as her arms shifted, green flashes moving along the red skin and turning it into a large, clawed hand. “I’m an Exorcist.”_

_Tyki was smart enough to release her then–and by release she meant that he quite literally threw her to the other side of the room, her back smashing into the wall and knocking the air from her lungs. But despite that she stood firm and tall, arm readied. Tyki began to advance toward her with light footsteps, fuelled by the sadistic intent to harm her and tear out her organs while she screamed, a ball of purple light forming in the palm of his hand…_

_Before he stopped._

_Allen blinked as he seemed to instead think, and after her initial confusion passed she moved to lunge at him, but he slipped straight through the floor with that vexing ability of his, leaving her standing where he had been seconds ago and growling crossly, exasperated. His voice rang out through the room, and it only made Allen's fury spike, her face red with anger and her heart pounding painfully with the adrenaline that raced through her veins, making her muscles twitch and chest constrict._

_“I’m not going to kill you, girl. Be grateful. You_ know _I could. But I’ll be back.” His dark chuckle echoed throughout the now near-empty room, save for the Exorcist standing in the middle–barefoot on the wooden floor–and a bedside table, dresser, small desk, and bed. "I'll be back," he drawled again, and Allen could hear the malice and glee in his voice. "Be on your guard, Exorcist Girl."_

 _Allen didn’t move from her spot for several minutes, nor did she revoke her Innocence. After a while, she was a little more eased about believing she was safe. She wasn't completely assuming that she was out of trouble, but for now, she believed she was okay. She looked up, sighing;_ Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?

* * *

  **~XoX~**

Allen twitched slightly at that infuriating smirk on his face, wanting to slap it off just like she had that time when he had found out her secret. Whether he had told or not, she didn’t know, and she didn’t think just asking was quite in order. She remembered the Noah’s recent words, repeating them in her head– _You hurt me, you know?_

“I know I hurt you,” Allen sneered, watching him slowly get step after step closer, muscles coiled tightly and quivering with the energy that could be released into the effort of killing this bastard. “That was kind of the point. Didn’t that get through to your dim-witted mind?” What had gotten into her? What was it about this pervert that made her act this way? She almost felt guilty, as though she were trying to hide an emotion by smothering it with hate.

Tyki’s haunting golden eyes flashed a clear warning sign. “Watch where you step, girl. Wouldn’t want something _bad_ to happen.”

Allen waited for him to get closer, suddenly crouching a little before springing toward him, still envious of the smooth way he moved out of the way of her attack, his smile stretching beyond human limits as he let himself phase straight through the ground, Allen feeling a quick flutter of panic seize her heart before she forced it back to wherever it came from, closing her eyes and calming herself, knowing his presence would register if she concentrated.

She kept focusing, ignoring his baritone voice as he called out taunts to try and make her lose focus. But she ignored the nag of his voice at her mind, trying to tug her knowledge away, slowly gaining on a presence…

_Right._

* * *

  **~XoX~**

Tyki decided he would make his attack when the taunts and threats he threw the Exorcist's way didn't work as he had hoped. It was disappointing, really. He'd even chucked in a few graphic descriptions, and still no reaction. He phased through the stone wall to the Exorcist's right, not going to her left because it was right where her parasitic arm was, and not attacking from behind either because it was much too obvious.

Despite his efforts, she still seemed to know exactly where he was as soon as he left the wall, her gleaming silver eyes snapping open as she whirled to face him, her short white locks flowing around her head with the motion. Her left arm rose to block his blast of purple dark matter, which it effectively did, but Tyki wouldn’t give up at something so simple. Far from. He only got closer and closer with every hit she deflected or dodged, cleverly aiming them to shift her attention before darting closer, eventually getting to the point where they were close enough to break into a full-out fight of hand-to-hand, which he knew Allen wasn’t quite properly equipped for, especially since her Innocence wasn’t nearly levelled up enough to properly fight a Noah.

The girl's determination was admirable, though. She dodged his flurry of punches with a practised fluency gained through experience and training, but he was faster than her slow swing of that clawed arm. She wouldn't take him by surprise that easily.

But he could.

He sent another bout of punches straight towards her, darting close enough for her breath to breeze across his face and the heat of her body to be registered by his skin, and he smirked as he managed to _just_ clip her jaw with a well-aimed strike, which in turn gave him enough time to introduce his foot to her hard, muscled stomach, the strong kick sending her flying back to collide with the cobbled wall behind her with a loud thud and a crack–probably a rib or something. She slid down the wall, coughing and gasping for the air that had been forced out of her lungs by the force she had hit the wall with, and he could catch a glimpse of the crimson liquid flowing down her chin from the corner of her mouth.

With menacing footsteps he advanced upon her, leaning forward slightly so he towered over her petite form, eyes smouldering with satisfaction at seeing her hunched over, coughing and wheezing as she tried to catch her breath and clutching her ribs. This was too easy. The Exorcist kicked out a leg in a low sweep, her foot simply passing straight through him without any damage or effect. She was _that_ desperate. It was pitiful.

"I pity you, girl." He watched as Allen's head snapped up at his words, giving him a perfect view of that small, pale face, thin lips a blotchy red and chin stained with blood, eyes the colour of mercury narrowed and darkened as she glared at him. "You're just a puppet for that precious _Order_ of yours, and you know it. It isn’t something I’d usually say, but you should all just get sick like you disgraceful creatures do and die off.”

He watched in satisfaction as he got just the reaction he desired; the Exorcist's eyes widened fractionally, her face flushing an alluring–dare he even mention it–shade of red in ire. "Y-You…" For a moment the Exorcist choked on her words, Tyki only grinning at the anger he could feel rolling off of her in waves.

 “You _bastard!_ ”

Tyki knew he had gotten and even better response than he had dared to hope for when she used a word like that, the usually polite and sweet Exorcist fuming, her eyes darkened to the point where the silver had faded into a grey. “You’re _disgusting._ You _all_ are! _Every single member_ of that _sickening_ family you’re in!”

Tyki blinked, speechless, staggered by the intensity of her harsh words. She really was angry. She continued to scream at him, her small shoulders shaking. “You have _no honour!_ You kill for no good reason, other than your own _sadistic tendencies_ and because you find our suffering _funny_! _I hate you!”_

Tyki blinked, one thought coming to register above all others– _that’s a lie._

That couldn’t be right. Why would his instincts tell him that she was lying about hating the Noah Clan, her sworn enemies? Why on earth would she lie about something like that?

But then another persistent thought came to the front of his mind, demanding to be recognised. _She didn’t specifically say she hated the whole Noah Clan. She said she hated_ me.

He smirked as the final thought crossed his mind– _She lied about hating me. That cunning little pest._

“You’re lying,” he stated simply, “about only one thing there. You have a good poker face, girl, but you can’t slip something like that past someone who has a better poker face.” He watched Allen’s eyes carefully, seeing the dark glint in them which darkened her eyes and made them burn all at once. Some sort of confusion flickered through her shimmering silver-blue eyes before recognition replaced it, and then a calm demeanour replaced all of the emotions, smartly shielding them from view as she peered up at him, lips creased into a slight frown. 

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that,” she responded heatedly, growing visibly irritated before Tyki’s eyes. “Your family _is_ a bunch of sick psychopaths, and I hate yo–”

"There's the lie," Tyki drawled, his smirk growing wider before he laughed rather darkly. "You don't hate me."

At Allen's flabbergasted and perplexed expression he realised what had happened. Her mask, to her, had become the _truth_. She believed her own lies.

 "I see what's happening here, girl, even if you don't. Drop the mask and scrutinise what you're saying. That shield you've got going has become your reality." He chuckled yet again, narrowing his golden eyes down at her, watching her eyes flood with confusion. "Ah, too dim-witted, I see. But then again, wasn't it me who was too dim-witted to understand anything?" 

He couldn't help but let his smile stretch wider and wider, inhumanly wide, but he didn't care. He'd realised what was happening before the girl had. She was too blind to notice what was going on right before her eyes, so he outlined it for her. "You're _lying._ You don’t hate me. But you’re acting like you do. You’ve told yourself again and again that you hate me because I’m the enemy, but that’s only because you’re covering something else.”

Allen sputtered, but Tyki cut in before her mess of words could leave the tip of her tongue.

“You’re lying to yourself…” He smiled in twisted amusement at her, eyes radiating with his glee, and crouched so they were face to face, so close their noses were nearly touching and their breath fanned across the other’s face, and when Allen tried to move away from the uncomfortable situation Tyki grabbed her left wrist in a crushing grip and pressed her right shoulder into the wall with his other hand, chuckling. His eyes flashed with an emotion he knew Allen didn’t have enough time to register, and he spoke softly, letting his hot breath ghost over her face.

"Maybe I should show you how you really feel," he purred as he closed the centimetre between their faces…

And placed his dark lips on Allen's.

* * *

 **The poem is mine. I put one at the start of every chapter for this story. Or I try. I can't make poems. I try, though.** **Now that I look at it, this chapter really is short... Hmm...**

**But anyways, I h** **ope you enjoyed the first chapter of this story, I'll be looking forward to putting up the next chapter.**

 

**CryDon'tSmile**

 


	2. Reality

**Okay, so before I start off this chapter, I want to mention that this is in a small German town. Undefined as of now. More details in the next chapter, as according to a comment I received giving me the advice to set out my situation more. Granted, these are chapters from earlier months, but I understood the importance and appreciated the comment. Thank you.**

**Enjoy.**

**Warnings:**  Slight violence. Nothing too bad. 

* * *

**...**

**Every day it's the same game again**

**Sorting truth from lie until time has passed**

**As blood flows through the body and fills every vein**

**Eyes wide open and staring, glassed**

**...**

**Nothing is told, nothing is said**

**Those emotions only drag you down**

**But rumours and lies, they quickly spread**

**Until they catch you and force you to drown**

**...**

* * *

 

**~XoX~**

Allen didn’t quite know what would kill her first in this situation. Both almost seemed as bad as the other.

The blush that spread across her cheeks like a wildfire and burned with just as much heat, or the indignity and humiliation of having her enemy kiss her?

She changed her mind. The latter was most definitely the worst out of the two. All she needed was her mind to clear a little, and she could easily see that the second option was the worst. There was nothing wrong with a little blood turning her face red. It had happened before in more… _decent_ situations.

There was a lot wrong with being kissed by a Noah, though.

She stared with wide eyes, straight into the molten gold in orbs that were lit up in pleasured amusement, feeling the soft press of lips pushing against hers, her heart thudding almost painfully in both horror and another feeling she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She stayed frozen–as still as a statue–for a few moments, stunned beyond comprehension, before suddenly snapping back her senses and trying to move away from the Noah, whose grip had loosened. She tore her left arm free, and in the same instance Tyki disconnected his lips and jumped back, far enough to evade her arm as she activated it and swung at him, hoping to catch him off guard.

She should’ve known that catching him off guard wouldn’t work, but she liked to take her chances. Like gambling…

_But this is a lot more deadly than gambling…_

She stood, making a visible effort to ignore the splintering pain that wove through her–now very likely to be bruised–ribs, glaring violently with numerous threats all invading her already spinning mind at once and playing themselves out on her mental screen, most of them involving the blood and death of the pervert before her. She didn’t usually think things like this, _sadistic_ thing like this, but something about this bastard just brought out the worst in her.

Strangely–actually, maybe not that strangely–Tyki reminded her of Kanda. Only a little. She tended to think violent things when Kanda was around as well– _they’re both arrogant, stuck up bastards, who only seem to think about themselves._

Despite that she stood frozen, words caught in her throat and thoughts jumbled beyond the point of comprehension, only one thing even slightly understandable. Treason; that was treason. But, no, they wouldn’t dub that as treason… Even if they had a way of finding out, it wasn’t her fault, so they couldn’t blame it all on her. And nobody would even know, as long as… She patted her pocket, feeling for the hard ball that rested in there, still placed right where she’d left it. Yep, Timcampy couldn’t have possibly gotten any information. He was asleep.

Odd to think that a golem could sleep… But it could also bite and hate people very much or love them like it loved Allen, so maybe not that weird after all.

“You…” she reached up, lightly brushing her gloved fingertips over her pale lips before her mouth twisted into a deep frown. "You… What's _wrong_ with you?!” Her shoulders shook in barely contained anger, and her brow was furrowed so deeply it caused creases to appear between her eyebrows and on her forehead. Just that one touch, that one brush of lips, and she felt like she’d had a layer of her pride stripped away from her and burned before her eyes so she had to watch it wither and curl like paper as the flames licked at it, testing whether it was worth consuming or not before devouring it in a bright flurry of burning orange. 

“There’s nothing wrong with _me_ ,” Tyki jeered, standing across from Allen at a good distance. “It’s _you_ who has been blinded this whole time by your _own_ lies.” His eyes narrowed mockingly, the grey lips that had been on hers mere moments ago twisting into a casual smirk, eyes blazing. “I told you to think, Allen Walker. So _think_.”

Allen began her angered advance, before rethinking her advance and pausing, brow furrowing and eyes narrowing as they stared down at the scuffed ground in a deep state of processing. What did he mean, _think?_ There was nothing to think about. Only that burning hate she possessed…

But why was that hate in her hands, filling them like a cupful of sticky blood, leaving corrupted stains long after the blood had swirled down the drain? Was it really her choice, or was she being pulled away from the sink by commanding hands before she could scrub the stains away, leaving her to deal with that heavy, metallic smell for as long as her hands went unwashed?

What was she thinking? It was her choice! There was nothing she couldn't hate about the Noah! _Especially_ Tyki Mikk. They were homicidal, murderous sadists, who would stop at nothing to get their way and destroy the Innocence on this Earth and bring humanity to a standstill. She was an _Exorcist._ It was her job to stop exactly that from happening! She was going to be one of humanity’s saviours. There was always the chance that the prophecy that dubbed her the ‘Destroyer of Time’ could interfere, but she was sure that she could save what was around her with her parasitic left arm and her comrades by her side. Saving humanity… would involve killing Tyki Mikk. It was as simple as that.

But still, that small feeling twinged in her gut, only gentle but still enough to the point where Allen believed that another dose of the feeling would bring her crashing to the ground, but she could overcome it like she overcame any other emotion that had stood in her way and stared her in the eyes with its deadly gaze. She knew the importance of emotions, but she also knew the importance of not letting them get in your road.

But… maybe, if she dared to say so and ruin every view she’d had up until now, it wasn’t her who decided that she had to hate the Noah. It made sense, she supposed–rather grudgingly at that.

Well, unless she considered Road. Maybe she could keep Road out of the whole equation. The little girl had done enough. Nailed her left arm into a wall in her dream world; made her watch as an Akuma’s soul as it died all over again and called to Allen for help; stabbed her cursed eye with a _candle_ , and then just had to sweeten the whole situation by rather grotesquely _licking the blood off of that candle._

There wasn’t much to love about all of that.

 Road’s cute, childish looks weren’t something Allen was fooled by. She could see it, deep in her gold eyes, that she was a lot older than she seemed. Because, deep in those bright, sadistic eyes, there was something else. A darkness, a wisdom, gained with age. The Millennium Earl had that same look deep in the windows to the soul.

But, despite all of that, despite the reasons she had listed to fuel her anger and revulsion… Allen wasn’t sure what she would feel if Road was gone, if the Millennium Earl was gone, if Tyki was gone. There would be nothing in it for her. Her arm would have her deemed a monster, just like the old days. A demon, even though that was the very thing she lived to fight. How could she fight herself?

But, she realised and knew with certainty, that she did fight herself. Almost every single day she lived, she questioned everything she knew until she ended up playing a game with herself, sorting the reality from the lies. She didn't know why, but something about imagining all of that, the world without anything for her to fight against other than herself… it filled her with an emptiness so severe it reminded her of when Mana had pushed her out of the way of that carriage, and…

And nothing. _Nothing_. That was the past. She had to forget about it. She could gain nothing from holding that pain to her like a lifeline. It had nothing to do with the present. She had to push away those feeling, the one that made a ball form in her hollow-feeling stomach and pitch it downwards, that made her heart ache with every throb it took to force blood through her body, to keep her alive. She couldn’t hold onto that.

Because in the present, they were fighting a _war._ A long, dangerous and bloody one, one that made Allen cringe at the very thought of all of those lives lost to the Akuma and the Noah. The Akuma were nothing like humans other than their trapped, wailing souls. Souls that screamed to be set free, called to her even when the Akuma itself screamed it wanted to kill her, making a melody of screeching, metallic hatred that grated on her ears and made her wince away, but then filled her with the resolve to kill the Akuma– _not kill, set free._

But the Noah… It was the Noah she didn’t understand. It was the Noah she often found herself questioning in her little game of Reality and Lies. How was it that…

How could such a monster look so very _human_?

* * *

 

**~XoX~**

Tyki wasn’t sure what it was.

Her determination? Her intriguing white hair? The irises that drowned in mercury? The red line that slashed over her left eye, the eye that could see Akuma? The smooth, marble skin? The fact that she seemed ethereal, made completely of white just like a statue, an angel?

There was something about her. Something he was drawn to. He hadn’t felt like this before. He, the Noah of Pleasure, was drawn to the indulgences in life, the sensualities that he could have just for a night before moving on. He worked for himself, and nobody else. Everything he did had a benefit for him, be it the pleasure of death or sex. So what was this? The feeling that if he got her he should never let go? He _wanted_ her, more than he’d ever wanted any of those other women. And no wonder. They were all so drab and same, with their pretty dresses and tight corsets and sparkling eyes and make-up, all giggly and flirty, only really trying to get him into bed.

Which, in all honesty, Tyki didn’t mind at all. After all; wasn’t he trying to do the same thing?

Something drastically changed here. Something was different. On seeing Allen’s hate-filled and confused eyes glaring at him something in his chest twinged slightly, so slightly he wasn’t sure whether it had actually happened or not. He dismissed it. It wasn’t important or worth his time. The only thing now that would be worth his time would be to destroy Allen Walker while she was distracted, plunge his arm through her chest and tear out her heart while it was still beating. Who cared about the damn blood that would get on his glove and ruin it? He could imagine it with a vivid intensity, the deathly still body of Allen, the adrenaline and kill-rush coursing through his veins, blood leaking from her mouth and chest alike, red and sticky…

There was that twinge again…

Something was wrong. Something tipped the scale in the wrong way. It was unbalanced. As much as the idea of spilling her blood and letting it splatter his shoes with its death pattern appealed to him, it also repulsed him. As though killing Allen Walker was something he should refrain from doing, when all he wanted was to do just that.

He was trying to get her to realise the truth. He had told her, again and again, to scrutinise what she was saying, pick it apart seam by seam and inspect each for breaks. Why? What was the point? Trying to get an Exorcist to see what they should be seeing in the first place was about as much use as getting the Millennium Earl to bring back your loved one.

Just to clarify things, when you get the Millennium Earl to bring back your loved one, you both end up dead. Tyki always found that rather funny and ironic.

So why was he trying?

Maybe it was a fight between his Noah and his human self. He knew that he suppressed the full power of his Noah. He didn't need it all anyway, and letting himself go crazy like that was dangerous. If he let his Noah take over, well… He could become an insane puppet, driven by madness and anger. That wasn’t his thing. Tyki liked having control. It was what made him ‘Tyki Mikk’. He would leave the anger to Skinn Bolic, the ‘Wrath’ of Noah. He wasn’t Wrath. He was Pleasure.

And to him, having a ‘Light’ side and a ‘Dark’ side made life a lot more fun. He had to be careful. He couldn’t lose his Light side. He would rather stay with his friends; Momo, Cole, and Eeez. He would often go out of his way to help them out because they were rather dear to him. He enjoyed leading a double life. One life as plain old Tyki, the vagabond miner; and the other as Lord Tyki Mikk, the noble and Noah.

But now was the time for playing his part as Noah.

“Have you understood anything I’ve told you, Allen Walker?” He smiled vehemently, gold eyes burning as he gazed at the Exorcist, eyes drawn to the flashing silver crest on the left side of her coat, inscribed with markings, showing her to be an Exorcist. Just another plaything for the Order to toy with, not really caring what happened to that plaything as long as they got some sort of benefit from it. Oh, how badly he wanted to tear that crest off, destroy the uniform and erase any sign that she was an Exorcist. She was more than just a pawn; she was more than just something for the Order to play wi-

_Quit thinking like that. She’s an Exorcist._

Tyki immediately snapped out of that. It only took one brief reminder that she should mean nothing. But still, questions plagued his mind, even when he tried to force them away and get back to the task at hand. 

_But if she meant nothing, why did I kiss her?_

It was true. Tyki didn’t often kiss women, albeit occasionally on the hand or cheek. But not like that. Not on the lips. _Especially not Exorcists._

_Who are you, Allen Walker? What is it that makes you different?_

Tyki stared at her intently, gold eyes flickering before dimming down slightly, thinking while never taking his attention off of her, both of them snared in the other’s gaze, staring the other down with all they had. Though Tyki would admit, Allen was probably winning with that hate-fuelled fire that blazed in her mercury orbs. If looks could kill… If looks could kill, Allen Walker would have committed murder again and again. That hate in her eyes was directed towards him and nobody else, but there was too much hate for it to be true. He hadn’t done enough to gain that much hate, not yet.

_Tell me._

And still, he stared at her, at her snow-white locks of hair, her boyish features and small face, the burning silver pools she had for irises, the creamy coloured skin, the thick red strip the marred the left side of her face, but made it so much more interesting and fascinating.

_What are you?_

That was the main question. Something like her… couldn’t be human. Could it? Humans were fragile; she wasn’t fragile. Humans were ugly and useless; she was far from that. Humans ruined this world; she always said her sole mission was to bring it from the ruins it was in and back into a thriving, prospering existence.

Just… not in the way that Tyki, the Millennium Earl, the whole of the Noah Clan, would prefer.

_You’re not human._

Looking at her, standing firm and tall, eyes ablaze with fortitude, her white hair falling over her forehead and brushing her cheekbones at its short length, the glaring red blood that streaked her lips and chin, the gleam of the buttons and crest of her uniform, the stark difference between her pale skin and the black she was cloaked in, the green glow of her Innocence surrounding her in a softly glowing light, haloing her.

_An angel?_

No. She wasn’t an angel. An angel wouldn’t be here like she was. An angel wouldn’t be cursed with that parasitic arm. An angel wouldn’t bleed before him– _God would never let an angel suffer like this, God would never give an angel parasitic type Innocence, God would never endanger an angel…_

_Would he?_

Was it possible that he was so cruel? Finally, Tyki’s mind seemed to make the decision on what the girl was.

_A fallen angel._

That was satisfying enough. It was the answer he wanted. If she wasn't human and wasn't an angel… Then she must’ve been a _fallen_ angel. Cursed back to this world for reasons he had yet to discover. He had a lot to discover. But for now, he needed to deal with this and get out of here. He couldn't waste any more time. He was still locked in the stare-down with those silver eyes, the colours of silver and gold clashing, dark and light facing one another off from only a few metres away.

Tyki reached up with a gloved hand, tugging down the brim of his top hat, shadowing his eyes to break the stare between them, still looking up at the girl. His eyes burned intensely, and he knew it was getting to the Exorcist when he saw her fidget slightly, before clenching and unclenching her hands. Her voice rang out, clear and filled with confidence, not enough to make her seem as though she had an ego but enough to show that she wasn’t one to back down.

_You would back down if you knew what was good for you, girl._

"Now then, girl..." Tyki smiled almost politely at the Exorcist before him, but the hint of danger that tugged at the edges of his mouth erased any sincerity from the grin he was sending her way. Like he could be sincere towards an Exorcist anyway, after having killed so many of her so-called _comrades._ They were going to die anyway, either from illness or accident or old age, Tyki was just cutting the cycle short more quickly than usual.

And a lot more painfully, too.

Tyki continued on with his purred words, baritone deep, rumbling through his chest like a growl. “I think you’ve stared enough. I understand you can’t keep your eyes away, but it’s rather indecent.” At the Exorcist’s recoil his grin only stretched wider, carving a path through his cheeks as she recovered from the small spell of shock from his conceited, arrogant words to instead glare blades at him, and Tyki knew that if she could really glare blades– well, ones that were at least Innocence weapons, otherwise they would pass through him without problem–he would have multiple buried hilt-deep in his chest. He flexed his gloved fingers out at his sides lazily, knuckles cracking with the movements of the joints and muscle. “I want to get this over and done with, and judging by the glare you’re giving me-” Tyki’s eyes flashed in amusement as the girl’s glare only intensified, “-you want to get it over with, too.”

He watched silently, standing straight letting his arms rest at his sides in a relaxed manner as Allen slid into a defensive stance.

_You need to be put in your place, girl._

* * *

 

**~XoX~**

Allen was partially convinced that she was a total idiot. Why was she even still _here?_ And why was she only questioning it _now?_ After facing Tyki multiple times–though she’d never really gotten hurt too badly, actually–and that one time she’d faced Road in the Rewinding Town–she most definitely got hurt there–Allen was pretty sure that she’d have enough common sense to run from a Noah at first chance.

But no. Every single time she'd find herself facing them, arm activated and ready to fight. Like a fool, she would attack them and go on the offence at least once, and then end up hurt. She spoke as though she could defeat them when deep in her mind and heart she knew it was all fake, a façade, bravado she couldn't live up to. But one day she would. 

Her silver eyes snapped with cold ice, her forehead straining with her endless glare. That glare felt so natural, yet so forced at the same time. It was mixed signals, and if there was something she hated more than anything, it was mixed signals.

Which was exactly what Tyki Mikk was giving her.

"I don't understand you," she muttered, tone spiked with anger and aggravation. And it was true. She didn't. It kept changing before she could get a good grip on the situation. First, he was trying to kill her, teasing as usual, and suddenly he was trying to get her to contemplate every word that left her mouth in regards to her feelings towards him–which she had assured herself was hatred and disgust, like she'd said a hundred times and would say a thousand more.

When the man before her blinked with a baffled look, she repeated herself with a clearer voice, anger growing and swelling in her chest, fighting for space. Her heart thudded angrily, and her eyebrows furrowed even more deeply than they already had, creasing the skin around her narrowed eyes. “I don’t understand you.”

He tried to get her to contemplate everything, laughed when she couldn’t find anything that wasn’t the same as it always was. There was nothing astray, no sharp corners… So why was he asking that of her? He told her that she was lying to herself like he knew her mind better than she did. 

_‘Drop the mask and scrutinise what you're saying. That shield you’ve got going has become your reality.’_

But he didn’t know her mind. He didn’t know her thoughts. He didn’t know anything.

But he acted like he knew everything, especially when he grabbed her left wrist in that crushing grip, held her to the wall like a helpless animal and…

Kissed her.

The thought of it made Allen shudder, and she could _confirm_ that it was a bad shudder. Another little tweak made its place in her gut– _gut instinct_ , she couldn’t help but scoff slightly at the thought–and tried to change her mind. But her mind was set. That was that. Until she died, she would hate the man before her. It was a promise, sealed with the bruises sure to be lining her ribs and the blood that still stained the corner of her mouth.

And now here he was again, saying that he should fight her. Right after something like that?! Mixed signals were definitely evident. Allen supposed there was nothing to it– _he’s making something up to throw me off._

How could it be more obvious? This was _Tyki Mikk._ He was self-absorbed, and the only reason he was saying things like this was to distract her from what she was supposed to be focusing on.

Honestly, it was working, seeing as Allen couldn't quite pull her mind away from the thoughts. They simply kept nagging at her mind, tugging so they could crawl their way from the back to the front until the words nearly danced before her eyes. With one final, mental shove she thrust the thoughts back to some dark corner in her mind where she kept all of the thoughts she didn't want to see again and balled her right hand into a fist as she took a single step forward, face falling flat and blank. "You said you wanted to get this over with. So, let us do just that."

Why on earth didn’t she run?

The battle–could it even be called a battle?– didn’t last long. At all. Tyki didn’t hold back. At all. Allen wasn’t winning. At all.

_I never listen to myself, do I? I tell myself to run, but I don’t run._

Allen would blame this one on her pride, just like every other battle she’d lost. There was quite a few of them. But, she supposed she had to lose if she wanted to get better.

“Now then, like I said, let’s get this over with.” Tyki, barely harmed or fazed in any way, darted towards her with a lightning-like speed, flashing from the other side of the alleyway to right in front of her with ease. Allen could only yelp slightly and try to duck out of the way of his hand, which she didn't quite manage. 

And by didn’t quite manage, she meant that she’d completely failed and his hand was now tightly wrapped around her throat.

Allen, with her back pressed against a wall and a hand cutting off her air, did what she always did. Fight. She couldn't help but kick, even if it was useless and she had been tired out, drops of perspiration slowly cascading from her forehead down her neck, plastering stands of white hair to her face. Her chest heaved more than it already had been with the new lack of air found from being choked rather than fighting hard, the flesh of her neck being squeezed and constricted by a strong hand…

_Dammit… Why do I never back down?_

But Allen had to have the final say.

“I hate… you,” she gritted out, trying to force small pockets of air through her teeth and past the narrow passage where her windpipe was being crushed to fill her lungs and keep her speaking. “Y-You’re a monster… You… all are…”

"It would be wise if you stayed quiet, girl," Tyki said simply, staring down at her from his height. Allen had always felt so small and frail compared to some of the taller people, because she was only a fifteen-year-old child, after all, and hadn't grown much at all. At least she could stay thin no matter how much she ate… That was an upside, right?

“Sorry… Mikk…” She smiled sarcastically, letting out a sharp exhale as her lips curled upwards at the corners and her eyes lit up with dark amusement, glimmering. “No can… do… I have to have the…last say, after… after all.” She knew she was digging herself a hole–probably the hole her coffin was going to end up in–but still, her damn pride, something she should’ve let go of, was taunting and pressuring her into making a jab at the Noah.

Tyki only scoffed in return, matching her glare with his smouldering eyes, the gold almost matching a thick, warm honey. “You’re going to get yourself in a lot of trouble like that, girl. One day. Mark my words. But for now…”

Allen’s eyes widened fractionally as he pulled her forwards and off of the wall, and her spine tingled as he placed his mouth next to her ear, speaking in a low, drawling growl. “I think you should just sleep for a bit…”

Allen could only predict the harsh pain that was soon to be felt second before she was slammed back into the wall behind her, her back hitting first and exploding with pain, but before she could even react to the infliction the back of her head hit the wall with only a little bit less of the force her back did, and within that split-second she lost consciousness, only able to grasp it for long enough to feel her body fall but not long enough to witness it hit the ground.

* * *

 

**Yeeeah short chapters.**

**Look at my early-this-year self go.**

**That's all.**

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**CryDon'tSmile**

  


	3. Contemplation

**I have dragged my useless self back. I'm not dead. And I have a chapter! What?! A chapter?!**

**Yeah... I'm really sorry, but here I am with an update! I will try harder (maybe)!**

**I have also changed the name of this story, so it is no longer labelled as a rewrite. So just ignore previous chapter titles and that.**

**Warnings:** None, unless you can really vividly imagine Allen's head wound. But that's not my fault - it's you who imagined it in grotesque detail, after all!

* * *

**...**

**You wonder of it, do you not?**

**Of how we will keep this to ourselves?**

**Away from them? Away from prying eyes?**

**Don't you worry?**

**...**

**We must work in a silence like the dead**

**Cut off all and any connection**

**They're getting suspicious, can you not see?!**

**Shh! They are going to hear you...**

**...**

* * *

**~XoX~**

_Pain._

When Allen came to, that was the only thing she could feel. With a groan she tried to roll over to make it easier to get up, only to find her vision blurred and head spun, especially with that heavy scent of blood that lingered in the air. She cast her grey eyes to the side when a golden glint shone from that direction, her fuzzy vision managing to make the round shape of Tim, who fluttered nervously beside her. "Ugh… Tim, stop that… You're hurting my eyes…"

As soon as the words had left her mouth Tim froze, giving her eyes enough time to adjust and properly make out his form, before he barrelled toward her and bit her nose, making the white-haired Exorcist screech. "Tim, no!" She lifted her hands and grabbed his tail, pulling, wincing when he refused to let go. "Ow, ow, ow… Tim, stop that! You're hurting me!"

Finally, Tim unclamped his jaw and let her fling him away by the tail, the young Exorcist groaning as she slowly sat up and rubbed her nose, sending a hateful glare to the little golden ball. "Ah… Bloody hell, Timcampy… What was that for?" Her lips twisted sourly as he simply fluttered in return, and as she went to reach for him–intending to tuck him back into her pocket–a sharp sting made itself known in the back of her skull. Her hand flew up to grasp the spot, and she pulled it away in horror as her palm came into contact with a hot liquid. She slowly brought her hand forward, straightened her arm and uncurling her gloved fingers, staring at the red that stained the white fabric in abstract fascination.

Memories suddenly snapped into place, filling the hollow place in her mind, nearly completing the puzzle piece. She could faintly remember gold eyes… that belonged to Tyki Mikk, yet could also recall being pinned to the wall, before… black. Just, black. Something within screamed at her and tried to tell her that something significant was completely missing, but no matter how hard she searched through the memories, all fuzzed at the edges, she didn't find it. _It doesn't matter… I might remember it later…_

Cautiously, Allen placed her left hand on the ground, lips twisting into a grimace at the spikes of pain that throbbed in her ribs as she hauled herself off the ground, abdomen twitching in discomfort. She had no doubt that she was probably covered in bruises, colours littered across her skin like a painting, and it seemed that the darkest colours would be splattered on her ribs and the back of her head. _There's probably a sizeable lump there, too…_

Allen sighed heavily, the breath leaving her mouth in a lengthy puff, which fogged and swirled into the cold air, up to the spotted sky above. A concussion wasn't how she wanted to start her night. She was rather stricken at remembering how weak she had been during that fight. It seemed that she had become too dependent on her Innocence, and her hand-to-hand combat skills had dwindled from the lack of training that way. She would probably have to add that to her training routine– _fighting with Kanda should help fix that problem._

"C'mon, Tim," she called wearily, stretching out an arm. "I wanna get back."

Tim fluttered over to her, and Allen imagined his behaviour was much like that of a puppy who had just discovered that his master had just returned home. Tim even reminded Allen of a dog in more normal circumstances, too. He would tail her wherever she went, and although he occasionally rubbed her the wrong way, she was glad he was so loyal to her.

The little golem settled on her shoulder, his tiny legs placed in the folds on her black and silver coat as his tail swished, curling around her throat. The hand she had originally extended toward the beloved creature was pulled back to her, and her gloved fingers positioned themselves on her throat, over the thin golden cord his tail was made of. Actually, she had no idea what his tail was made of - or his whole body in general - but she assumed it was some type of metal, especially due to the way the light would reflect off of his round body.

"Gosh…" she muttered to the space around her, feeling Tim's wings perk slightly, which she supposed signified that he was listening to her regardless. "This headache is killing me…" In an immediate response, Tim brushed the large swirl at the end of his tail against her neck in a reassuring rub. She chuckled lightly, sending another quick flash of pain up the back of her head. "Thanks, buddy."

For a while, she walked in complete silence, other than the tapping of her boots against the stone ground. The sound filled the cold night, one of the only things to accompany the lonely ears of the white-haired Exorcist other than the faint hushes of wind blowing across the empty streets. What was the time? Surely it was quite early since there wasn't a sound or light to be heard. All she had to guide her through the dark was the shine of the full-bellied moon above her, which cast a halo down to the earth and bathed everything in a soft white glow.

It was odd, being awake at a time like this. Almost… eerie, although Allen didn't feel any sort of fear or paranoia. Instead, her chest felt light, and her shoulders seemed weightless. Her white hair brushed her cheeks with every step she took, and even that felt like silk, weightless and soft. She was a creature made of white in the darkness of this place, a fairy-tale land, and she loved it. She was calm, an emotion that hadn't crossed her in a long time, and it felt good. It made her want to twirl, sing and laugh. Just enjoy whatever came her way. How long had it been since such little weight had pressed down on her, and how long had it been since the air was easy to breathe?

 _The witching hour…_ Yes, that was what it reminded her of. Even as chills from the cold breeze wracked her small body, she got some sort of ecstasy from the feeling of her numbed fingers. A smile lit up her pale face, making the red scar that cut across the left side of her face shift to make room. The witching hour, a time when the whole world was asleep, and the creatures of the night would come out of their hiding places and play. Allen supposed that maybe she could count as one of those creatures.

And as she looked around, it seemed more and more like what she had described to herself. Milky light bathed everything; the stone buildings of the small German town looked soft, rippled, like if she touched it her hand would simply sink in. Nothing looked completely straight, the surrounds looked like they had been twisted slightly, and the colours were all in light shades of grey. As she ran her hand along a wall, finding – almost to her disappointment – that it was perfectly solid, she let out a long breath. There was no way to describe how light she felt, as though helium had been pumped into her veins, like her feet barely touched the ground.

"The witching hour…" she murmured, voice chiming through the frigid air like a wind chime. "Curious."

However, her headache still persisted, only being irritated further by the frosty nip on any unprotected part of her ghostly skin. Her intentions would usually be to seek out the nearest inn, but she doubted there would be one open at such an hour. So, as there was a railway that ran directly through this town, she would go to the station. Even if there wasn't a train due, she could just wait it out, maybe even sleep at the train station. Thus it was decided – _train station it is._

The young Exorcist continued through the absurdly tranquil town, which Allen was ultimately soothed by, her hands trailing along chalky walls and her boots tapping on the pale ground, the soft clicks sounding far-off as they echoed against the stones, bouncing through desolated alleyways. "This is like a ghost town, Tim…" she murmured, afraid of speaking too loud, as though too much sound would break the spell the moon cast down onto this place. After a few moments of getting no response, she twisted her neck, trying to get a good look at her shoulder, where the golden ball was. "Tim?" The golem had pulled his thin tail away from her throat, instead of having it curled around him, the fanned out part at the end shielding his "face" from view.

"Oh…" Allen shook her head slightly, before hissing – _I probably shouldn't have done that with this headache._ Apparently, the golem was asleep.

It was only a few minutes until she had arrived at the train station, one of the only places with lights on in the whole of the small town. The harsh yellow glow of the lanterns awoke her silver eyes from their daze, making them water as she stared directly into it, suddenly fascinated by the colour. Another light shone into the corner of her eyes, but she was aware that it was just the radiant light reflecting off of Tim.

Upon walking into the train station, Allen sighed, rather heavily. She wanted a shower… Heaviness had begun to settle at the back of her head, where the gash was – made evident by the pain there – and blood had begun to cake into her white hair. Easily, she could imagine what a sight it would be – some kid with scrapes and bruises on their face, and hair stained with a deep red by blood. The thought horrified even _her._

"Uh, sir? Are you… okay?" Allen looked over to the attendant, who now sat alert at his desk despite the dark smears of exhaustion beneath his eyes. Eyes that were widened, and rather fear filled as well, probably becoming so upon looking at her dishevelled state.

"Yeah." Allen flashed a warm smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I know it looks bad, but it's okay, really."

"Are you sure?" The attendant's voice held so much concern that it nearly hurt. Pity, Allen registered it as pity, and she didn't like it.

"Yes. I'm sure." _Stop it. Stop giving me that look. I don't want that look. I don't want your pity._

Without any further word, she simply turned away, done with the conversation, clearly displaying that by only giving the attendant her back to look at – _the gash on the back of my head, too._ Her smile faded, and she pressed her lips together, the depths of her silver eyes filling with a bitter look. Tim, who had likely woken at hearing a voice aside from hers, nuzzled against her cheek.

_Please let the next train arrive quickly…_

* * *

**~XoX~**

It was odd to say, absolutely ridiculous to even exist within his mind, but…

He couldn't help but hope she was okay.

_Idiot._

It was true – he was an idiot for even letting the thought cross his mind. If he were to say it aloud around any of the others… Well…

That would be the end of either him or of Allen Walker. He figured it would more likely be Allen. The Earl planned to get rid of her anyway. She was becoming a real nuisance, after all, with that ever-upgrading Innocence.

Sitting here, mostly unscathed in his warm, spacious room, he had to wonder about how she was going. Judging on the time… It had been about six hours since he had last seen her, at nine pm.

_…What am I even doing awake at three in the morning?_

Actually, better yet, how long had he been sitting in this chair? The bed was untouched, smoothly made – by the Akuma maids, of course. They did… well, pretty much anything that involved housework. Tyki was fine to do it on his own, but he always seemed to let time slip by, and when he went to do it the task had already been completed by an Akuma.

A life of luxury, if the war wasn't factored into the equation.

The white-haired Exorcist Tyki had knocked out earlier probably wasn't on the same track of thought. Maybe not any, if she was still unconscious. That blow, if delivered to someone who didn't have Innocence – parasitic Innocence at that – and a strong tolerance to blows would have been passed out for much longer. But he believed that Allen would be awake by now and finding her way home.

Pitiful, that she called that god-damned Order _home._

With a sigh, he cast his gold eyes out the opened window, where the curtains fluttered faintly. He stared out into the dark abyss of night, shadows stretching across the room and writhing as though they were alive, caressed by the light of the gleaming stars and thin strip that was the crescent moon. A shadowed look fell over his eyes, the bright gleam of gold piercing through the haze.

He needed a cigarette.

He flicked his grey hand back, snagging the pack from the table, flipping it open and taking one with his teeth in a smooth motion, a skill he had acquired over his many years of smoking. If anything, it was just like breathing, other than that pleasant calm that settled over him as he smoked. He could stop anytime he wanted, as he told himself, but he didn't want to stop just yet. He flicked a match over the arm of his jacket, bringing light to it, before cupping his hand around both the match and cigarette as he greeted them, protecting the flickering flame from the subtle wind that came into the room through that open window.

He may have needed the dirtied smoke of a cigarette, but he decided that he also wanted fresh air.

With a grace that only a Noah could hold, though nothing compared to the grace that Maitora had within her step, he lifted himself to full height, sauntering over to the window, a not-so-graceful stagger in his step from sitting down for so long. With his fingers holding the cigarette between his lips, drawing smoke deep into his lungs and filling his chest with the foul substance he enjoyed so much, he rested his elbows on the windowsill, once again turning his tired eyes up to gaze at the speckled sky. Blue-ish grey smoke curled up, taken up into the darkness by the wind, leaving wisps of its being like a prayer.

"I should go back to sleep…" Tyki drawled to nobody but himself and the dark night that engulfed the world before his eyes, cigarette bit down on to prevent it from twirling to the ground, where he couldn't be bothered going to fetch it. If he were to be honest with himself, he wasn't talking for any other reason than to fill the eerie silence that had begun to press down on him, his voice giving him a false sense of company in the dark, empty room.

Gently, he flicked the smoke held in his teeth, loosening the ash from the end of it and leaving it to be lured in by the night. He stared with an empty gaze as they swirled in the air, slowly been torn apart to tiny little shreds that would likely never be found.

_Why did I kiss her?_

Huh. That thought was sudden. He hadn't even been on the track of anything alike. Though, if he were to tell the truth, he had discovered that the mind worked in odd ways. Questioning an Exorcist. Telling them to rethink what they held to them so dearly. Kissing them. Leaving them _alive._

He wondered if he would have to explain that one to the Earl. Hopefully not.

Even odder, too much for his limited comprehension – and to even imagine that these were his _own thoughts…_ \- he didn't really _enjoy_ kissing her. If anything, doing so was… creepy. _Really_ creepy. It wasn't like he wanted to… If anything, it felt like more like a necessity. Like he had been _required_ to do it, which was… odd…

Maybe he wouldn't ever even bother trying to understand it completely.

He jumped when a little voice piped up, picturing the doe-eyes of the one that stood behind him. "Those things kill humans, you know?"

He turned, however, with a lot of caution in the movement, blinking slowly. She had lifted a hand, pointing to his hand, the one that held the cigarette. He'd nearly crushed it in surprise. When had she gotten here? He hadn't heard anything, no footsteps, and no doors opening: whether his or her own heart-shaped ones. "Road? When did you get here?"

The little girl tilted her spiky head to the side, eyes widened curiously, gleaming with the light that flooded in through the window. "Not too long ago… You didn't hear me?" The small smile that lifted her lips said all – _of course you didn't hear me._

"Of course not." He did wonder why she even asked. But that was Road for you. Playing around like everything was all a big game.

"Those clothes are dirty."

 _Oh, my God…_ "Yes, Road. But do I look like I care?" Answer: no. He didn't care. He hadn't showered this night, either. Did he shower last night? Whatever. He'd gone longer – mainly in his days of being a hobo. Suspiciously, his eyes did a scan up and down her attire. "Why are you dressed like it's the middle of the day?"

"Because it's the middle of the day somewhere." Road gave a short shrug, a little grin lighting up the wicked planes of her face. "Stop harassing me."

"I'm not. Sheryl defines harassment, not me." At Road's unsure shrug, one that told she wasn't fully bought by his words – although likely a faux disagreement to get on his nerves – he sighed. "Whatever. Can you get out of my room, please?"

"No."

"Come _on,_ Road, I said please."

"And _I_ said _no_." Road's tongue stuck out from between her lips, signifying to the elder – though he really wasn't older than her – that she had made her defining point and had nothing more, and didn't need it.

_Brat…_

"Okay. Your point is clear. What do you want me to do?" He shifted his weight, rolling it back onto his left foot, even though he really didn't have to. More something to settle those nerves that pinched at his stomach. Who knew a twelve-year-old could be so scary?

"What?" Road's deep eyes filled with sudden confusion, and in turn, Tyki became just as confused. She narrowed her eyes then, scrutinising him through dark lashes. "Do you _always_ think I want something when I come to see you?"

Silence followed.

"You do! You do, you do! Oh, Tykiii! That's so mean!" Road gave the impression that she was shameless about acting this way at such an early hour. The third Noah really hoped nobody came to investigate the racket.

Especially not now that Road had dropped to the floor, kicking and screaming like a toddler having a fit.

"Road! _Road!"_ Tyki hissed, glaring down at her, flicking his hand back to pitch the half-burned cigarette out the window. "Are you crazy? Be quiet!"

There was no rejoinder – as there usually would have been – to his pleading mutters. Her only answer seemed to be the _'clunk, clunk'_ of her hard-soled shoes against the floor. Her wailing was sustaine as a constant high pitch. And then she stopped. Sat up. Smiled.

"Good, right?"

"I'm not Sheryl," Tyki said, voice reasonably worn out. "I don't fall for your little tantrums, you old woman."

Her smile dropped for a short second, and Tyki was immediately reconsidering his words. Oh, no… But a split second and she was smiling and happy again, completely bypassing the comment. "Hey, do you think we'll see Allen again~?"

 _'Oh no' indeed…_ And just as Tyki had forgotten about the whole encounter, too. His face remained neutral, however, other than the faint lift of an eyebrow. "From the amount you talk about that Exorcist, I could swear you're completely infatuated."

"What?!" Road screeched, and Tyki – like the man he was – would admit he recoiled. "I am not! And… a-and so what if I was?!"

"Road. It's three in the morning. Stop yelling." Tyki sighed, turning his back on her – about as safe as turning his back on a stalking lion – and leaning on the windowsill. "Go back to bed."

"I was never in bed."

"Then go to bed."

"He's dangerous."

 _What?_ Tyki twisted his head to observe the other over his shoulder, disconcerted by her sudden change of behaviour. It was like she had aged ten years in ten seconds. "Road?"

"He's dangerous," she pressed, her own eyes considerably dangerous as she looked up at him. "Allen Walker. Maybe… we should keep an eye on him."

And with that, a blink of those wise eyes – eyes that held stories beyond her years, lined with a fatigue Tyki could never quite wrap his head around – she turned, leaving through the door.

"Good night, Tyki."

* * *

**~XoX~**

Allen had long since settled back onto the wooden seat of the train. Another long sigh left her lips, dry and cracked from spending time unconscious in the cold of the night. The soft thunder of the wheels beneath calmed her a little, but not enough to fully register her as tranquil. Her hush was one of deliberation, taking into deep consideration what had happened around her. With her slim fingers cold against Tim's back, she ran a quick once-over of the happenings.

She fought Tyki, then there was a blank spot – something she believed involved preaching of a sort, got knocked out, and now she was here. Having boarded the train simply by flashing the crest upon her coat, she realised how for granted she took it. She didn't have to bother with the hassle of tickets and such. She wouldn't want to with this headache either.

_Thud._

She could feel her heartbeat right at the back of her head, where it was heavy. Perhaps it was the wound; perhaps it was because her white hair was laden with blood.

She didn't want to know.

_Thud. Thud._

She could just cut her hair again anyway. She preferred it short, anyway. She…

Why did that come from her mind wrong? _She._

Easily, she chose to shake it off. Never mind it. Maybe she was dazed. Yeah, yeah, for sure. She was still feeling the effects of that hit.

_She…_

She distracted herself then, lifting her fingers to pull through her hair. Eventually, they got caught, right over where she could feel broken skin. Ugh, and it felt terrible, too, like someone had gotten a chisel and was just tap, tap, _tapping_ away at her head. She tried to pull her fingers further through the white strands, and couldn't. It only made her head hurt more. They were completely matted together.

Yep, cutting it out was her first option. After she got back. Which was going to take a while… Maybe she would just do it herself once the train stopped. She wouldn't do a nice, neat job like someone like Johnny would, but it would do. She'd probably visit a doctor too. The gash had stopped bleeding, but she knew that it would start again with a little aggravation, as head wounds did.

_Thud._

Speaking of aggravation, that was exactly what her throbbing headache was doing. Aggravating her. To try and purge the feeling, she got as close to the window as she could without resting her head on it as she wanted and stared out with bright silver eyes. It would seem the stars gazed back with their own flashes of silver as they whizzed past, stark against their black background. Allen loved the stars. They were so pleasing to the eyes. Many a train ride she had spent with her head on the window, white hair mussed and eyes skyward.

Her hair usually wasn't matted with blood, though. And she didn't want to risk actually placing her face on the window – the rattling would surely give her head wound all sorts of grief. She was already in a mood that was, for lack of better word, the opposite of _chipper._ She didn't need to keep piling her problems upon a fragile plate.

_And to think I'm only fifteen._

Allen didn't feel fifteen. No, she felt she'd aged much more than that in the fifteen years she had been upon this earth. She had seen more than fifteen winters of snow, hadn't she?

_Thud._

Amidst a sigh, she placed her knuckles beneath her rounded chin. Her eyes crinkled a little at the flashes of light reflecting off the glass, and she could no longer choose where to look. The stars blurred together in a mixed canvas of silver and black, or her own silver eyes, hazy and wondering. The red line that cut across her face, forever marring her with the _curse_ or the sliver of the moon that cut into the deep darkness of the universe about them.

She knew what she would rather.

And so it was that she chose the moon, staring inattentively at the shining strip of silver that hung in the sky as if by magic. Of course, that wasn't the case – it was just the pull of the Earth and all, but she liked to think of it like magic. Like a miracle.

Allen had always loved the idea of miracles. They seemed so far away, so _untouched_ by what reality really was.

_Thud._

Oh, she sure needed to stop somewhere about this headache. She was pretty sure she could once again feel dribbles of blood slowly making their way down through her hair. Her brow twitched – _if_ he _hadn't done this and if_ she _hadn't done that –_ but she did nothing more than folding her arms over her waist. That attitude was a bad one, and Tim often taught her against that with his _teeth._ Rest assured, it was no fun at all.

…

When she was next aware, the sun spilt heavy over the horizon, coating the world with a new day's shades of orange and blue. She hadn't fathomed falling asleep, yet she must of, somewhere between the confused ramblings of her mind. She though she'd never nod off with the splitting twinge of agony that felt like she could have a dagger lodged in her skull. A day in the infirmary would mend that problem as easily as cutting butter, but Allen never fancied spending any time in that place. As sterile and clean as the white rooms felt, they always smelled of… well, _hospital._ There was no other way to portray it – it was as unique a smell as the taste of water. Something, but then again _nothing._

_I'm terrible at explaining things, even to myself._

She was only cut from her abstract thoughts by a shuffle in her pocket, something tossing and turning in trying to escape. That would be Timcampy trying to emerge from her pocket, but the tilt of her leg caused her thigh to press up against the wall of the train, effectively – though not purposely – trapping him.

Sometimes she had her doubts about how clever the golem really was. Being eaten by cats, trying to eat the smoke of stranger's cigarettes, getting trapped in her pockets…

She crossed her leg over the other, providing a gap for the golem for working his way out of her pocket. As soon as he had he walked in a circle or two on her leg, before beaming up at her with those ridiculous teeth. If a golem could be proud of itself, that was the exact look of it.

Allen gave him a light tap on the head with a finger, smiling in return. "Stupid thing." When he only kept his sunny grin, she turned back to the window, narrowing her eyes when the rays of sunlight that bounce off the horizon cut into her eyes, refracted by the glass window. She rests an arm on the window, and her forehead on her arm – not only does it provide a more comfortable resting spot, it blocks most of the sun from shining straight into her eyes.

Slowly, the train slowed, wheels grinding on the tracks as it screeched to a halt. Allen best get her head fixed up and then move on. She didn't want to spend another second being jostled by the train, a new burst of pain exploding right up the back of her skull with each jerk.

Fingers closing around Tim's body, she stood, quietly making her way out of the train. It was easy to ignore how people stared at the back of her head – they would stare at her arm the same way, had she not covered it with her sleeves and gloves. Both bright red, both seeming like some horrible injury of sorts.

It seemed a busy town. She had to push her way through crowds, searching for any sign that notified of a doctor or hospital. After a good fifteen minutes of searching, she found one, breathing out a sigh of relief.

_Finally, some sort of aid._

When she walked in, she knew she couldn't be in that bad a place. With white walls and tiled floors, smelling of sterile settings… just like the medical wing back at HQ. Refusing to be obtrusive, she waited noiselessly, pacing back and forth through the small room that held little more than a few chairs and a stack of newspapers to keep those waiting entertained – "not bored out of their minds" was a better term, she decided. It emptied out fast enough – there wasn't many who had appointments so early. She squinted at the clock. Seven o'clock. Not bad.

With a deep breath to steel herself, Allen made her way up to the receptionist, who had taken up her time via drumming her nails against the wooden bench before her. "Excuse me, miss. I would like to see the doctor, it's a rather large head wound I've got." When gestured to, she turned, revealing the gash in all its glory.

With the shade of white that the receptionist turned, it was almost a surprise that she didn't just faint.

* * *

**~XoX~**

Tyki didn't often see the sunrise. He had maybe dozed off for a good thirty minutes but had been watching the sky change between colours all morning, each to its own extraordinary shade. Blues, purples, pinks, orange. It had flickered through them too fast for him to really paint the image into his mind.

Perhaps he would consider rising earlier.

Yet he still found his eyes drifted to the door, watching, waiting. For what, he wasn't sure, but there had to be _something._ Perhaps it was because of Road's words? They had been rather… chilling. She wasn't usually so solemn. It had given the Third Child quite a scare if he were to be completely honest with himself (which he very rarely was).

She knew something he didn't, and it annoyed him. He liked answers, and not ones that raised more questions. He wanted every ounce of knowledge he needed to be settled right in his hands, where it was at his disposal.

_Is Allen Walker really so dangerous?_

Hypothetically, it was astute to trust in Road's speakings. She was older than all of them – she had _survived_ the Fourteenth's betrayal. She had stayed by the Earl's side through thick and thin, and knew more about him – Tyki realised – than he ever would. Even without that knowledge, it was in those _eyes,_ deep obsidian pools of untold stories. He nearly drowned in them, when he looked for too long.

She was interesting, that girl, the Noah of Dreams. It was nearly unimaginable.

His stare dragged back to the window, back to the blue shadows cast by the deep red of a rising sun. If he viewed the window, its reflection, in particular, he could see what a mess he was. Even if he were a Noah, it didn't quite pull him straight out of the category of _human,_ and his sleepless night showed with dark bags and a scowling set to his mouth – _about time to drag my sorry ass back to bed, I think._

And he did just that. Rose, let out a heavy yawn – one he eventually came to grasp that he was retaining within his chest – and let his body fall into the covers like it was filled with lead. His eyes, watering with the large yawn that had just left him, slid closed, lashes casting faint shadows across his cheeks as the subtle glow of the morning sun filled the room, warming it.

He could think about it later.

* * *

**Look at me, alive and... stuff. Man, I suck. But I really am trying, it's just been hard for some reason. It's... I feel that it's stupid to admit it here, and not an excuse for my lack of updating, but I have been diagnosed with depression, and have not yet been able to receive counselling of any sort. It does help just having it out there now, though, and being able to talk.**

**I know it is not an excuse, but it can make things a little slow. But I do feel that... that my joy for writing is returning. Writing those final pieces for this chapter, Allen going to the doctors and Tyki's POV... It felt so nice. It felt so nice to close up the chapter and look at what I had done and _smile_ even though it's midnight and I should really be sleeping, ahah. But it feels so good to enjoy my writing again. It really does. I missed it, I missed you guys, and I hope I can make up for my inactivity.**

**On inactivity, though, I am on holidays right now - I have very limited internet and all that, and will until the 27th (estimated). I will still try to write, though.**

**But that's all from me. I don't want to take up too much of your time by making you read through me droning on and on...**

_**Bye-Bye!** _

* * *

**CryDon'tSmile**


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